


Harry Potter & the Goblet's Randomly Selected Spirit Guide

by mercrutch064



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Gen, Spirits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercrutch064/pseuds/mercrutch064
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament has started up for the first time in about two centuries, revolving around the Goblet of Fire. However, few people know of the Goblet's true capabilities, and the rather strange consequences it brings.Harry Potter really wanted a normal year at Hogwarts. Given his luck in the past, he probably should have aimed a bit lower. Being put into the Triwizard Tournament definitely didn't help with the idea that he was just that unlucky. At least he got a friend(?) from the 18th century out of it.*Please read AN.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Male Character(s), Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. An Overly Dramatic Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just an idea that I've had live rent free in my mind for the longest time. I might write more about this. I have two other chapter outlines written out for this, but god knows when I will actually update this. I just wanted to get this out there and see what people thought of it. Actually, this is fanfiction. I really shouldn't care as much about public opinion as much as I do. I'm definitely not salty that my Among Us fic got more hits and kudos than my Batman fic, absolutely not. I'm not salty, you're salty.
> 
> Special thanks to @LilacBrown889 for helping to edit and encourage me to write this fic, as well as my potterhead friends who do not own ao3 accounts (and are subsequently far better than the two of us)!

It was a rather lovely night for the residents of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The stars were out, and a calm had settled over the lake as a large ship bobbed around in it. All was peaceful and quiet, if one chose to tune out the rustling trees coming from the Forbidden Forest. With the looming castle in the background, the scene would make for a rather nice picture, with the lights reflected off of the lake, a full moon, etc, etc.

Within the walls of the castle, however, was a different story altogether. You see, tonight was a very important night. The champions for the Triwizard Tournament were about to be selected. The students of Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic were joined with the Hogwarts students, eagerly awaiting to see who would be selected for this prestigious honor.

Meanwhile, one particular student was not as enthused as the rest of his student peers. That student was none other than Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived. The 14 year-old boy was rather tired on that particular day, for no particular reason.

“I swear to Merlin, I just want a normal school year,” Harry muttered to himself, “just one. Is that too much to ask?” He proceeded to trudge to the Great Hall and then plopped himself on the bench where his best friends - Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger - were waiting.

“Who d’you reckon will be picked to represent Hogwarts?” - Ron asked, on the edge of his seat. “I think Angelina might have a good chance. Definitely better than that bloke from Hufflepuff-” and it was at this point that Hermione shushed Ron forcefully.

“Hush, Ronald! The ceremony is about to start!” Hermione glared at the redhead before directing her gaze to the staff table.

Ron glared back at Hermione, muttering “Merlin, woman,” before leaning back on the bench and looking up in the same direction. The people around them were now deathly quiet as Professor Dumbledore walked up to the goblet situated in the middle of the hall. Harry put his head on the table and tried to get himself to go to sleep. Unfortunately, the crowd seemed to think tonight was the perfect time to disrupt Harry’s plans for completely tuning out of this hall as Dumbledore announced each champion for the three schools.

“Viktor Krum!” Dumbledore cried out. Harry just tried to plug his ears as the males started roaring and the females swooned, probably in response to seeing Krum getting up. He contemplated sitting up and swooning as well, but passed up on it after considering any possible ramifications of such an action.

“Fleur Delacour!” Now, Harry was hearing girls whispering and politely clapping, while the boys were silent. He assumed that was because of the allure. Harry wouldn’t know, seeing as he was trying to dissociate from the world at this point. He absolutely couldn't care less.

“Cedric Diggory!” It was now at this point that everyone was clapping uproariously. A few moments passed, and everyone was back to talking like normal. Harry was gaining some success in nodding off. He was just about to head off into a deep slumber when everyone quieted down. There was even more whispering going around, sounding a bit more frenzied and furious. Harry did not like this one bit. Usually a second silence indicated that something bad was happening. However, he was particularly determined not to let anything get to him. He closed his eyes, but a second later he heard another fwoosh indicating that another name had been summoned out of the goblet. He shut his eyes harder than before. If this was what he thought it was, then he must have a curse put on him. Come to think of it, that made a lot of sense, considering how he got his damned scar.

“Please don’t be me, please don’t be me, please don’t be me,” he muttered to himself, but he knew his prayers were futile.

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore uttered in a tense silence.

With that, Harry’s fate was sealed. Everyone turned their attention towards the teenage boy, waiting for his response. Keep in mind, he was still leaning on the table, head covered with his arms. He groaned in irritation, the noise ringing throughout the Great Hall. Harry heard a snicker coming from the Slytherin table that was probably Malfoy. He raised his head and stood up to a sea of glares. He flinched ever-so-slightly, before regaining his wits. He calmly walked up toward the front of the Great Hall, his footsteps echoing across the giant chamber. As he steeled himself for what was likely to be an unpleasant time all around, he felt a rumbling sensation that gradually grew in intensity. He looked back and braced himself. The goblet was starting to shake uncontrollably and emit a clanging sound.

All of a sudden, a bright red light burst out of the goblet, accompanied by customary flames. The light settled into a mist, which went round and round the hall. Students screamed as it zoomed around, pushing cups and utensils all over the place. After a minute, it slowed down and stopped in front of the goblet. The mist faded away, revealing a blue figure. It was completely cloaked, but one look at it revealed it to be a spirit. The spirit coughed audibly, and spoke.

“Is there a Harry Potter in my present company? I wish to speak with this individual.” Now, the voice that came out of the spirit was interesting. It wasn’t yelled out, per se, but it was booming. A silence followed after the ghost asked the question. Annoyed, the ghost coughed, startling everyone.

“Allow me to repeat myself: Is there a Harry Potter in my present company?” This was significantly louder, and Harry was shaken out of his stupor.

“Um, I’m Harry Potter, sir.” The cloaked ghost turned to him for a moment. Harry thought that the figure seemed amused for a second. It went over to him and stopped about 6 inches from his face. Harry grew a bit nervous with each passing second of silence, until it finally spoke again.

“Well then, this certainly did not go as planned.” Then, a slim hand reached out and pulled back the hood, revealing a rather astonishing sight indeed. The spirit was an Asian teenager with dark hair, large half-rimmed glasses, and a wide grin on his face.

“It is a pleasure to meet thee. Mercutio Davis, at thy service. I am here to serve as thy spirit mentor for the remainder of this tournament.” It was at this point that Harry could only say one thing:

“You have got to be pulling my leg.”


	2. Exposition Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA You thought I wouldn't update soon, would you? Too bad, I just posted this new chapter. I wrote this in the span of like a week idfk. I bet you feel pretty dumb right now, don't you? Joke's on you, suckers!
> 
> ...I'm sorry. I'm very tired. But here, have some exposition.

Pandemonium immediately broke out among the crowd of students. Harry was starting to grow weary of all the nonsensical noises coming from his fellow students. He started to mutter “Please shut up, please shut up.” Mercutio heard this, and was puzzled. He turned to ask Harry about it.

“What does that mean, exactly? What should I shut?” Harry stopped his muttering and looked up at Mercutio in surprise. Harry briefly questioned whether his supposed spirit guide was toying with him, or just dense. He shut down both ideas fairly quickly. He really shouldn’t judge based on looks and the first few seconds of interaction. He was not the Dursleys. While he was still mulling it over, Mercutio was still asking questions.

“How do I shut it upwards, depending on the thing you wish for me to shut? Wh-” Mercutio never got to finish his barrage of questions, however, as Dumbledore saw it fit to gain some control over the witnesses. The headmaster raised his wand for a Sonorus amidst all the yelling and pulled a wee bit more air into his lungs than normal as he overpowered the crowd and yelled.

“SILENCE, PLEASE!” Everyone immediately quieted down.. Mercutio spotted Harry sighing in relief and connected two and two together.

“Ah. That makes sense now. Apologies for bothering you,” Mercutio whispered to Harry. The boy in question looked up after a moment and gave the spirit a slight smile.

“Don’t worry, Mercutio. It’s fine, but how do you n-” Harry stopped once he noticed Dumbledore walking towards the two. 

“Mr. Potter,” the old man curtly addressed Harry. “Could you please enter the antechamber with the other champions? It seems we have much to discuss.”  
Harry nodded dumbly and made his way to the door, Mercutio trailing behind him. As Harry entered the antechamber, he exhaled once seeing the other three champions waiting by the fire. The three individuals in question turned to look at him. Harry saw Cedric walk toward him.

“Harry? What are you doing here? What happened?” Cedric asked. Normally, Harry would immediately be on the defensive, but Cedric sounded a bit worried, which was interesting. They’ve only interacted for a bit in Quidditch and on the way to the Quidditch World Cup. However, Harry also remembered how Cedric acted honorably during the match that he fainted because of the blasted Dementors and even when Cedric’s dad was bragging about how Cedric won that match in Harry’s face (the audacity, honestly). He decided that he could trust Cedric.

“My bad luck happened.” Harry deadpanned. The Hufflepuff looked lost for a moment, before coming to a realization. He looked back at Harry, with a rather sorry look on his face. God, that jawline was so damn sharp, what in th-

“No, Harry. You must be joking. Wh-” Harry could only nod in response, as words left him. Cedric seemed to age a year as he reeled back in shock. However, he had no time to process that, as the other champion - Fleur Delacour - came up to him. 

“What is it? Do zey want us back in ze hall?” She asked. Harry still couldn’t respond, as it just fully dawned on him that he had been entered in a tournament that he was most surely going to die in. The doors to the antechamber burst open, as Barty Crouch, Madame Maxine, Professor Karkaroff, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape entered, preceded by a very excited Ludo Bagman. Dumbledore rushed over to Harry and addressed him.

“HARRY! DIDJA PUT YA NAME IN DA GOBLET OF FIAH?!” Dumbledore cried out as he shook Harry roughly.

Harry was a bit startled by his movements and could only stutter out a “No, sir.” Dumbledore nodded and stepped back. After that, Harry lost most of his awareness and tuned out, only hearing snippets of the people’s words around him. 

“Little boy?” Harry registered coming from Fleur. He felt only a bit offended by that, as he was still 14 years of age. However, he simmered inside at Karkaroff and Snape’s exclamations that he was a cheat. He was only 14, how the hell was he supposed to find a way past the Age Line, much less the actual Goblet’s security? Fred and George Weasley couldn’t do it, and they were incredibly clever! After all, one must be at least somewhat intelligent in order to produce whatever pranks they could think of. 

“Professor Dumbledore!” Cedric said. “Surely he can’t compete! He’s not nearly as trained as the three of us are. He will die!” 

Dumbledore shook his head sadly in response. “I’m afraid, Mr. Diggory, that the goblet still recognizes Mr. Potter’s name as a contestant in the tournament. If he does not participate in the tasks, his magic will be considered forfeit. This looks to be the result of some very dark magic, indeed.” Dumbledore looked at Harry’s scar at that statement. Thankfully, no one else noticed. 

“Aye, it seems that someone must have Confunded the Goblet’s wards and snuck in Potter’s name,” Mad-Eye interjected, startling Harry. When the hell did he get in here?! The retired auror snuck a glance at the shaken boy, and looked particularly amused. “In fact, I believe I might have two prime suspects right in this very room.” At this, he glanced pointedly between the Durmstrang headmaster and the potions master respectively. They both bristled angrily. 

“How dare you insinuate that I would take the time to enter that cheating brat into this tournament!” Snape growled. Harry could feel the sheer hate emanating from the dour man. 

“Oy!” Mercutio called out. The adults stiffened upon realizing they had a spirit amongst them, and turned to him. He continued, “You cannot see how this poor child is ailed so by this situation, let alone your baseless accusations!” 

“And who are you to say this?” Snape spat out. Mercutio scoffed and ran his hand through his hair. He fixed Snape with a stern glare.

“As I have stated erstwhile, I am Mr. Potter’s spirit guide. If thou art diligent enough, search for the Triwizard Handbook.” Mercutio then pointed over at Mr. Crouch, who proceeded to take out the book in question. Mercutio continued, “There thou shall find that in Chapter 4, Section 71, Subsection 35, Passage 42, there is a condition most rare: If the Goblet recognizes that an underage student entered into the Tournament, there is nothing that can be done to take them out of it.” Crouch nodded along during all of this, Harry noted. Mercutio finished his explanation, “Therefore, in order to compensate, the goblet shall randomly select a spirit of the Tournament’s previous champions who have passed away while the tournament was in place to assist the underage student in preparing themselves for the upcoming tasks-”

“Hold on a tick,” Harry interrupted. “If you were one of the champions from the last tournament, what year are you from?” Mercutio didn’t really look like he came from an older time period, though maybe that was the cloak. Mercutio seemed to blank out for a moment, possibly from being interrupted. He regained his composure quickly, though.

“I hail from the year of 1792, Harrison,” Mercutio stated. Wow, Harry was really off the mark today, he thought to himself. As Harry questioned his eyes and ears, Mercutio asked the logical progression after that statement.

“What year is it currently, exactly?” Mercutio asked Harry. Harry took a second to remind himself that this was an active conversation. After this, he looked up to Mercutio and responded.

“It’s Halloween of 1994, Mercutio.” Harry explained. Mercutio nodded and muttered to himself a bit. Harry did some math in his head, and realized something right as Mercutio lifted his head up. “Hold on. That would mean that-“

“I would be 2 centuries into the future!” Mercutio exclaimed. “Ahahahaha! Hogwarts, you fine lady! Two whole centuries yet you have not changed any!” He yelled while he put his hand on the wall. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was a ghost, and his hand passed through the wall. Everyone looked at him as he angrily whispered “Tarnation!” to himself, before returning to their conversation. 

“Mon Dieu,” Harry heard Fleur mutter under her breath. She looked slightly perturbed by Mercutio’s behavior. Krum merely grunted in such a way that communicated confusion, and Cedric didn’t react at all. Mercutio paid no attention to their reactions and continued to look around the room, floating wherever he pleased.

Once congratulations were put in order and scathing comments were directed towards Harry (mainly from Snape), he was sent off back to go to sleep. Mercutio trailed beside him, both lost in thought. Harry was mainly worried about how his housemates would react. If this was going to be the same routine as his parseltongue reveal in 2nd Year, then he would lose all faith in his classmates. 

“So,” Harry looked up at Mercutio’s questioning tone. The ghost finished, “Gryffindor, I presume?” Harry rolled his eyes and brushed his school outfit, straightening his gold and red tie.

“Gee, how could you ever have guessed that?” Harry asked sarcastically. Mercutio decided to play along, and pretended to think it over. He looked over the boy next to him.

“Call it intuition, young one. Might be the hair, actually. Symptoms of a courageous demeanor, I suppose.” Harry smiled hesitantly, and the two of them continued walking (or in Mercutio’s case, floating). 

“What house were you in, Mercutio?” Harry asked.

“Slytherin,” Mercutio replied proudly. 

Harry did a double take, and stopped dead in his tracks outside before the Fat Lady. He told the password, and he turned to Mercutio as they were entering the room.

“Wait. You were a Slytherin?” Harry asked him. Mercutio looked bewildered, before responding in a light tone.

“Yes. What, is there an issue with that?” Mercutio looked back at Harry strangely. They both heard a bunch of gasps, and turned their heads. In front of them were all the Gryffindor students, presumably celebrating Harry’s new status as a competitor. Harry sighed in resignation as the entire room started to crowd around him and cheer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, special thanks to LilacBrown889 for helping with this. Please comment if you can, I would love for people to criticize this cause I'm actually really invested in this holy moly. Something must be wrong with me, I need to improve my sleep schedule.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic, feel free to leave a kudos if you feel so inclined, and check out the 2 other works I have as well as Lilac's works!  
> I said it, I said it, can I go now - OK OK PUT THE GUN DOWN! WHAT DID I EVEN DO, YOU-


End file.
